


Just Keep on Keeping Your Eyes on Me

by Hollyspacey



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Getting Together, I Don't Even Know, Secret Relationship, Silence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 02:24:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10754793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hollyspacey/pseuds/Hollyspacey
Summary: Darcy and Bucky don’t say very much to one another at first, but that’s ok with them both.





	Just Keep on Keeping Your Eyes on Me

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on the [tumblr.](http://hollyspacey.tumblr.com/) :)

She sees him watching her, she’d have to be blind not to. 

The way his attention turns to her immediately whenever she walks into a room, his eyes tracing her movements through the space. Her, noticing him notice her. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t interested. It’s impossible to have someone catch your attention in that way and not make you wonder. And he is someone she thinks she could wonder about for a very long time. 

She doesn’t know much about him, not really. She refuses to read his file, keeps herself from looking at the leaked data online, won’t even brush up on her Howling Commando knowledge. She knows enough, though, and figures it isn’t fair to judge him on his past. Mostly she knows what Steve and Sam and the others have told her. That he is damaged and delicate in some ways, and harsh and ruthless in others, but that he is a good person despite it all (this mostly comes from Steve, but also from Sam when no one else is around.) 

So she finds herself watching him back. She is under no illusions that he doesn’t notice, but she tries to be discreet anyway. And sometimes she thinks she catches him unaware. When there is a big group of them together and he still stays on the outskirts, trying not to draw too much attention to himself, even though Darcy thinks she sees something in his eyes that looks like he wants to be a part of the group. When he leaves the gym and she happens to be in the hallway and she stares maybe a little too hard at the play of muscles under his damp t-shirt. 

When they are at the weekly family dinners that Tony forces everyone to attend and the attention is on Thor while he tells some epic, fantastical story in that big, booming voice of his, and Bucky is seated at Steve’s side with a plate of food in front of him, surrounded by people that he might consider friends, and he looks content. Happy, even. Nothing like the shadow that followed Steve around in the early days. 

So, he would sit there, eating his dinner, the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips and Darcy would watch him until he looked up, met her eyes, and stared back. Then she would give him a soft smile, turn back to her food, and leave him alone. Let him do some watching of his own if he wanted, and it seemed he always wanted to.

He doesn’t talk to her. Not really. But he doesn’t talk to anyone, save Steve or Sam. Occasionally Natasha. He communicates in one word answers or soft mumbles, nods or quick shakes of the head. But with her, he’s even more silent, just fixes those soft grey eyes on her and _watches_.

Eventually he stops watching from afar and approaches her. Sort of.

Sits nearer to her at the breakfast table, stops by the lab to silently watch her work, and Darcy finds herself alone in elevators with him far more often than she thinks is statistically possible. They still don't talk, which is normal for him, but it’s a total change for Darcy. 

She's used to being the comic relief, cracking jokes, keeping conversations going. The silence is so strange. But also, kind of nice. She doesn't have to make small talk or carry on conversations about things she doesn't care about. That drive to always be on is just _gone_. She can sit with him in silence and be content. She finds she likes this wordless company of hers. 

What comes next is all his fault. As it were, Darcy was simply sitting on the loveseat reading. There were other seats in the room. He could have sat on the couch with Clint or in any of the empty chairs. But, no. He sat down right next to her. Let his body heat reach across the upholstery and warm the left side of her body. 

She found herself leaning towards him- just because they didn't speak didn't mean they couldn't touch. She was a tactile creature and he didn’t seem to mind a bit. As the hours went on and afternoon turned to evening, they ended up almost as close as two people could be, Bucky’s arm slung over her shoulder, Darcy’s head resting against his chest as she listened to the comforting beat of his heart. Clint had long since left the room and it was just the two of them, pretending that the Dog Cops marathon was the only thing keeping them stuck on that couch. 

Eventually, Bucky disentangled himself from Darcy, stood, looked down at her for a few moments, and left the room. She wasn’t sure what it meant or where it had come from, but she couldn’t help but be a little awestruck by the whole interaction. 

The next day, Darcy was on her way up to the lab, when the doors opened a few floors short of her destination. Bucky stood in front of her, and his gaze was heavy as he stepped inside and stood to her right. 

The doors had almost slid shut when Bucky moved to stand in front of her. She gazed up at him in silence as he stepped closer, her heart pounding at his sudden proximity. His hand slid around to the small of her back as he walked her backwards until she was wedged between the metal wall and his body. His other hand reached up to cup her face and there was no resistance on her part as he inclined his head and pressed his lips against hers. His mouth was warm and firm as he kissed her deeply, his tongue slipping into her mouth to slide against hers, eliciting a soft moan from Darcy. 

As soon as it began, it was over, Bucky stepping away to watch her with darkened eyes. Darcy fell back against the wall and returned his stare. When the doors slid open a few moments later, Bucky gave her a quick nod, disappearing down the hallway. 

The rest of the day, Darcy was no good. She was distracted, twitchy, she kept finding herself rubbing her lips with her fingers, replaying every moment of their encounter in the elevator. Remembering how that kiss had taken her breath away. Wondering when he might do it again. 

Darcy made sure to sit beside Bucky at dinner that night, settling in next to him with nothing more than a small glance at his profile. They didn’t speak to each other, instead made small talk with other people at the table as they ate, their fingers brushing once as Darcy reached for the salt and Bucky went to grab some bread. It was like every stupid romance novel Darcy had inhaled when she was younger. 

If they were following that script, their eyes would meet cautiously over their dinner plates, Darcy perhaps looking down quickly and blushing demurely. They would spend the whole evening carefully aware of each other’s presence and at the end of the night, maybe Bucky would walk her to her room and press a respectful kiss to her hand as he bid her a goodnight. 

But novels were fiction and romance didn’t always mean handpicked bouquets and walks through the garden and hushed declarations of love and proposals of marriage. Sometimes it meant a firm hand against a thigh under the dinner table, everyone else eating their meals obliviously as large fingers slipped under the hem of a dress and pressed insistently against soft skin. 

And the feeling of Bucky's strong hand gripping her leg made Darcy forget her childhood daydreams that featured princesses and chance meetings that turned instantly to love and all that overly sentimental bullshit. All she wanted in that moment was more. More of his hands on her body, more of his strong presence at her side, more _him_. Screw being rescued from danger by the knight in shining armor. _Give me the danger_ , Darcy thought. 

She let her hand wrap around his wrist, him going totally still at her touch. Maybe he was expecting her to yank his hand away from her, push him away, cause a scene. If he was, he covered his shock well as she slid her hand down to cover his as she pushed his palm up against her hot center. He recovered quickly, his touch becoming insistent and sure. Darcy covered the gasp that flew from her mouth by taking a big sip of water, forcing herself to steady her breathing as he stroked and petted her over the thin layer of fabric.

So when he showed up at her door later that night, hands in his pockets and dark look in his eyes, she let him right in. Closed the door behind him and stared at him boldly. Dared him to do what he came there to do. Let him peel her clothes off and carry her into the bedroom, legs wrapped around his waist, hand tangled in his soft hair as he explored her mouth with his own. Let him set her on the bed while he crawled down her body to settle in the crook of her thighs, seemingly making it his mission to make her fall apart using only his hands and tongue. A mission he completed to a rousing success. Then he crawled his way back up her body and pushed inside of her, pulling a litany of soft curse words and breathy gasps from Darcy as he filled her completely. 

Later, when they were still catching their breath, the sweat cooling on their bodies, Bucky pulled her against him and just held her. His body was warm and solid against hers, and Darcy felt herself relax against him as she let all the questions she had of, _What was this, what did it mean, what would happen next,_ go silent as she burrowed into his side.

They didn’t tell anyone. Not even Steve or Jane. Certainly none of the others. Not because they were ashamed or scared of what they would think, exactly. It just felt new and unexpected and soft and neither one of them wanted to do anything to ruin it. They held this tiny new thing between them when they were together, and pretended it didn’t exist when they were around others. Went on about their lives like always, staying a comfortable distance from each other in public, but once they were behind closed doors, they were rarely separated. 

Learning each other’s bodies, and then later, when Bucky started talking, learning about each other’s lives. He would stay over sometimes, rolling his eyes in the morning when he’d slip out of bed and Darcy would make a sleepy joke about his ‘walk of shame.’ It wasn’t ideal and it wasn’t like any relationship that Darcy had ever had, but it was real. It meant something.

The party was Tony's big birthday bash. Somehow classy and over the top, just like the man himself. Darcy had finagled a new outfit out of the birthday boy and showed up looking impeccable in a slinky navy dress that cost more than her first car. 

She was dancing, sandwiched between Wanda and Jane when she saw him walk in. Her movements faltered only briefly and, as she was a bad enough dancer and had steadily been sipping on her second glass of champagne, it wasn’t too obvious. He stood in the doorway, just watching her, until Steve glanced back to see why he wasn’t following him. Steve subtly followed Bucky’s heavy gaze until it landed on Darcy, a furrow appearing between his brows as he looked at Darcy and the brief flash of panic on her face before she made herself turn back around and continue dancing as if she weren’t totally aware of the man who had just come in the room. 

Darcy had to force herself not to stare at him as he walked through the party. It was difficult, she hadn’t seen him in nearly a week as he’d gone out with Steve for a mission. That, and the man had shown up in a suit and he looked irresistible. So, she rationed her opportunities to look at him. A quick glance as she walked over to grab another glass of champagne from the waiter. A small peek as she and Sam were dancing and she ended up looking in his direction. And once, in a bold move, as she stopped dancing completely and looked around until she saw that he had moved to stand by a different column. 

He was watching her, of course. Even when he was in conversation with Steve, or taking a drink, his attention was on her. It was a heady thing. Darcy wanted nothing more than for him to hand his beer bottle over to Steve and weave through the crowd until he was standing before her, asking her to dance. 

But he just stood there as she kept dancing, a steady flow of revolving partners joining her, but none of them him. She even got a song with Bruce and was surprised to find him to be really good dancer. Until he got shy and shuffled off at the end of the song, a shy grin and a, “Thank you,” on his lips. So, she went back into her circle, dancing away, feeling the alcohol and the joy of the night course through her body.

She was mid-spin when a strong hand wrapped around her arm, gently pulling her from Wanda and Jane. It was Steve, asking if it was ok if he cut in. Darcy nodded softly and let herself be led away from her friends, Steve’s hands placed respectfully at her sides. 

Steve, as it turned out, wasn’t a bad dancer. Stiff, a little uncertain of his movements, but not altogether terrible. She thought back to the one time she and Bucky had danced. She’d been making french toast when he turned up the music she’d been listening to and crept up behind her, pulling her away to twirl around the kitchen. His touch had been firm and certain and he had moved her with a gracefulness that made her tear up. A glance at the Bucky he had been decades ago, before the war and Hydra had changed him. 

He was just a boy from Brooklyn, grin on his face as he twirled some girl around the dance floor. Nevermind that their dance floor was Darcy’s kitchen floor, and her dancing dress was Bucky’s t-shirt and a pair of underwear, that the music was coming from an iPod and there was a smell of burning french toast in the air, it was still the best dance Darcy had ever had. And judging by the way he looked at her, it was at least in Bucky’s top three. 

She wanted nothing more than to be dancing with him now, but instead she was moving with Steve, waiting for the inevitable. They swayed to the music for a bit, neither one willing to start the conversation that Darcy was certain was coming. Steve himself looked like he was barely holding back the floodgates, like he had so much to say, but even more questions that he needed to ask. But he kept quiet, swinging Darcy about in rhythm to the music, occasionally letting himself glance up to the corner of the room where they both knew Bucky was standing.

Finally, he took a deep breath. “Bucky,” he said, with the slightest lift, as if his very name was question enough. 

And maybe it was, because Darcy just softly replied, “Bucky.” 

He nodded to himself, all the confirmation he needed and kept dancing her around the room. He moved them closer to the corner where Bucky was standing and they swayed together at the edge of the crowd. He cleared his throat. “It’s none of my business, I know. I wasn’t sure for the longest time what was going on, but Bucky is happy. Happier than I thought he might ever be again. I think you might be behind that, so thank you.” He raised his voice the slightest bit and grinned, “Now come get your girl, punk.” 

After a moment, Bucky came up behind him and took Steve’s place, lightly shoving his shoulder as he passed by. He slowly moved to hold her, Darcy’s hands going up to rest against his shoulders. 

She gave him a small grin. “ _Your girl_. That’s new.” 

“You saying that’s a bad thing?” 

She shook her head. “No. I think I kind of like it.” 

His lips twitched into a soft grin, his eyes darting down to take in her whole body. He took a deep breath. “I like this dress.” 

“You can thank Tony.” 

“I think more credit should go to the person wearing the dress.” 

Darcy huffed and softly smacked his arm. “When did you get so smooth, Bucky Barnes?” 

“I’ve always been this smooth. Ask anyone over 90.” 

Darcy traced her fingers along the lapel of his suit. She hummed. “Well, Mr. Smooth, you look pretty dapper tonight. You, in a suit like this- could make a girl get a little breathless.” 

“That’s exactly what I like to hear.” 

She laughed softly and looked around the dance floor. Steve was trying very hard to not watch them, and mostly succeeding. Darcy ducked her head and spoke softly, “So, Steve knows.” 

“Steve knows,” Bucky confirmed with a nod. 

“And are you ok with that?” Darcy asked. 

Bucky looked away from her as he held her a little tighter. Half a song passed like that, the two of them swaying together silently. She thought he might not answer, but then he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and tilted her head back, so he could look into her eyes. “Darling, I am ok with everyone knowing. I don’t like keeping you secret.” 

Darcy felt the hot press of tears at Bucky’s words, and before any of them could fall, she leaned upwards and kissed him, hands gripping his neck as she pressed herself as close as possible. When she pulled back, there was a smudge of red around Bucky’s mouth. She chuckled and wiped her thumb across his lips. “Keep dancing with me? What is it you old people say? Fill up my dance card?” 

Bucky chuckled and held her closer, swinging her around the dance floor like he did that one night in her kitchen, and damn, if it wasn’t even better to not have to keep him a secret anymore. Every once in awhile, one of their friends would dance by with a raised brow or a snarky comment about how cozy they looked, but everyone seemed to be taking this new development in stride. Darcy thought privately that Steve was at least partially responsible, giving some people, (ahem, _Tony_ ) the Captain glare before they could get started up. Darcy promised herself that she would bake him up something special. 

Darcy looked up at Bucky, studied the way his whole posture was calm. The softness that had filled his eyes as they swayed together. “What do you say about taking this back to my place?” 

His jaw twitched and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips. “Sounds like a plan, doll.” 

Bucky took her hand in his and led her through the crowd like a man on a mission, and though he didn’t know it, it was that moment that Darcy realized how hopelessly in love with him she had become. That she had probably been inching towards it the whole time, even when they weren’t speaking, that somehow her heart had been opening up a spot just for him. And as she watched the man leading her away to hopefully do some pretty scandalous things to her, she knew that she would gladly follow him anywhere he went.


End file.
